by Dina James
“For years,” came a dark voice from beside the grave, “both mortal and in Hell, I have watched and waited for you to find another one, Kailkiril’ron.”
A form appeared from behind the fountain.
“Still spying then, Kihirin,” Kyle said in a bored tone. “I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, thinking for yourself is such a hardship.”
“Actually, this is ‘for myself,” Kihirin answered darkly. “No one cares about you any more. You are a joke. No one here wants you either, I see, except . . . Who is that little thing you have there? Another one willing to die for you? You waste no time, Kailkiril’ron.”
“And you’re still inattentive,” Kyle said with a menacing grin. “For all your spying, you haven’t learned a thing.”
“You have the Destrati sovereign’s wife right there in your hands,” Kihirin said. “Do you know what her soul is worth? You offer that and Father will give you back your own—”
Katrina watched in horror as Kyle grabbed Kihirin’s mortal form by the throat. She stepped hurriedly backwards and fell hard against the base of the gargoyle monument. She yelped as the corner grazed her arm from wrist to elbow. She might be immortal, but that didn’t mean things still didn’t hurt like hell.
“You have no idea how badly Hell can hurt, little girl,” Kihirin snarled at her, both his hands trying to free himself from Kyle’s grip. “You have an idea, do you not, Betrayer? Forsake her, and you can have everything back. Remember who you were? Remember your legions? Remember your command? Andronicus leads now, and being under his command is nothing compared to what it was to serve under you. You were so much more everything than he is. Twenty thousand legions at your command, Lord General. Perfect obedience. And your masterful touch at soul-rending. No one could torture a soul, mortal or immortal, like you. Remember the sound of home? How often do you kill an innocent young one slowly just to hear that sound again? Remember your hound—”
“I remember,” Kyle said darkly, “my service and blind obedience.”
Kyle released Kihirin, tossing him dismissively towards the fountain without effort. The demon fell backwards, almost into the water.
“You can have it all back,” Kihirin said again. “All you have to do—”
“Is give you what I don’t have, and never will again,” Kyle snapped. “You saw to that when you released her soul.” He sniffed disdainfully. “I am . . . was . . . the Lord General. Firstborn. I do not just blindly follow orders like the rest of you.
“Father should have had more faith in me,” Kyle added.
Kihirin laughed. “You imply that you would have given up her soul, if only you had been asked and not ordered to?”
Kihirin reached slowly into the pocket of the jacket he was wearing and brought something out of it. He opened his fingers and there, sitting in his palm, was a glittering ball of faint white light, marred by tendrils of black cracks manifested over its crystalline surface.
“No,” Kyle protested, though it was little more than a whisper. He glared at Kihirin. “She was an innocent. Her soul ascended. Do not think I do not know the extent to which you will go for your amusement, Kihirin.”
Katrina could only watch in horror. Was that really a soul she was seeing? It didn’t look like she expected it to. It was quite small, and almost ordinary looking. It looked so sad and vulnerable all on its own.
“Well, it is not as pure as it once was after having been tortured for all this time. I can see why you wanted it for yourself,” Kihirin said, laughing again. “Why you kept it from Father. You always did find it difficult to obey without proper motivation. When you came back unsuccessful . . . you, Lord General ...” Kihirin tsked and shook his head, then held the ball of light out to Kyle. “I have kept her all this time for you, Lord General, so that when you regained your senses and remembered your loyalties you would have it to present to Father, so you could reclaim your place. I assure you, it is hers.”
A mournful cry, like the screech of an improperly rosined bow over taut violin strings, reached Katrina’s ears. The sound of it dropped Kyle to his knees.
“Catrine . . .” Kyle said, choking on the name.
Kihirin crouched down before him. “Return with me,” Kihirin urged. “Present this to Father as you should have done before. Humble yourself before him, and he might even allow you to atone using her—”
Kyle flung Kihirin against the fountain monument with such force that the soul in Kihirin’s hand fell to the ground at the base of Catrine’s grave.
Kihirin’s mortal eyes widened. Kyle stood over him, looking down mercilessly. Even as a lost soul, he was still more of a demon than Kihirin could ever hope to be.
Kyle roared an unintelligible word, banishing Kihirin from using the means to manifest here ever again. Then he knelt to look down at the abandoned soul Kihirin had left behind. But before he could touch it, the ball of light changed and took something of a transparent form before him.
It was fleeting, but Katrina saw the form reach to touch Kyle’s face before disappearing entirely.
It was all Katrina could do to choke back the sob in her throat. It wasn’t enough, however, and attracted Kyle’s attention.
Kyle glanced at Katrina. Her cheeks were wet as he came to help her stand. He reached for her arm and righted her. She yelped again as his touch made her aware of her injury. Kyle held her wrist with one hand as he passed his other hand over her wound. It healed instantly.
“Are you all right?”
It was the first time in a long time that Katrina had felt gentleness and genuine warmth in Kyle’s touch. She pulled back to look at him.
Even without a soul, Kyle’s presence was formidable. What must it have been like when he was whole?
“That was her, wasn’t it?” Katrina asked softly. “He wasn’t lying to you. He had her, all this time.”
Kyle nodded absently as his eyes strayed to the empty place where Catrine’s soul had stood for a moment.
“Now that she’s free, she can return to you,” Katrina said, her eyes sparkling. “Sure, she’ll have to be born again and you’ll have to find her again and all that, but she’ll come back to you, I know it! Don’t look so unhappy. This is a wonderful thing!”
Kyle looked up at the heavens. Then he cocked his head to one side and slowly turned to gaze at Katrina. He could sense that she wanted to ask a question. He tried to hide his smile.
Katrina suddenly felt warm - too warm for the winter coat she had on.
“Kyle, um, you wouldn’t really have—” she looked up at him, meeting his pale ethereal eyes “—given your dad Catrine’s soul . . .”
Kyle lifted her chin with a crooked finger.
“. . . if he’d asked for it . . .”
He smiled slightly.
“... would you?”
The heat creeping up her neck was starting to become oppressive. She opened her coat and fanned the collar a moment, trying to cool herself slightly. She felt like she was being slowly strangled.
Kyle didn’t reply. He simply studied her, looking deep into her eyes.
She smiled at him, waiting, but still he said nothing. Not even a hint of a wry smile, no arched, derisive eyebrow. It was a little . . . eerie, and she thought herself pretty well used to eerie by now.
But then Kyle smiled and offered her a graceful half-bow.
She knew it was the only answer he was going to give. She laughed to herself for thinking he would . . . thinking he could have.
Would he?
She met his eyes again, quickly. Pale and sea green. She could see more in them now.
“Once a thief, always a thief,” her mother was fond of saying.
As Kyle gently took her arm, and shifted them both to her home, Katrina tried to silence her mother’s warning in her head.
“Once a demon, always a demon?”
Author Biographies
Dina James
Her first short story, “Play Dead” was published in The Mammoth Book of
Vampire Romance. “Once A Demon” is her second foray into the world of the Destrati.
dinajames.com
Constable & Robinson Ltd
3 The Lanchesters 162 Fulham Palace Road
London W6 9ER www.constablerobinson.com
First published in the UK by Robinson, an imprint of Constable & Robinson, 2009
“Once A Demon” © by Dina James. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
The right of Trisha Telep to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A copy of the British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library
UK ISBN 978-1-84529-941-5
First published in the United States in 2009 by Running Press Book Publishers
All rights reserved under the Pan-American and International Copyright Conventions
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or hereafter invented, without written permission from the publisher.
US Library of Congress number: 2008942197 US ISBN 978-7624-3651-4
Running Press Book Publishers
2300 Chestnut Street Philadelphia, PA 19103-4371
Visit us on the web! www.runningpress.com
A Digital Production by Angg♥n